Money Can't Help You Now
by alpacalyspe
Summary: The districts have won the rebellion. Katniss Everdeen has decreed that there will be a 76th Hunger Games - only with the Capitol's children. Money can't help you now.
1. Anabella Venus Cassandre

"Mama, you said we were having oxen for dinner!"

"Yes, Anabella, darling, I did but –"

"No buts! You said we were having it and we're not. You are awful and I hate you."

"Sweetie, District 10 have not been working well recently; I tried my best for you."

"All my friends have _two _wild boar and I can't have one measly cow. I'll be the laughing stock!"

With that, Anabella Venus Cassandre scraped her chair across the intricate gold stone floor, stood, turned, and walked straight into the barrel of a gun.


	2. Bloody, Raw Oxen

Her back shook. It could be mistaken for laughing if she were anywhere else.

There was something ugly about her in such an exquisite place; a blot on clean sheets.

This would have been Katniss two years earlier.

_Katniss._

Would everything have been different if she hadn't given her the pin?

_That damn pin._

She couldn't tell whether it was a blessing or a curse. The districts were free physically, but mentally they were still locked in a tight grip with themselves; wrangling with their pasts, of all that had happened to them.

She supposed she was lucky that her father had been the mayor; that she had been able to escape so soundlessly, while others drowned in bullets. She supposed she didn't care, either, since she herself had preferred to be alone, just like the Girl On Fire, and had had no real friends in District 12.

She supposed.

Anabella hated crying in front of people, or rather, she simply hated crying. Yet here she was, with the unfriendly salty tears dragging themselves down her face, feeling totally and utterly foreign. _I bet Katniss Everdeen cried, _she thought. _I hope she did._

Katniss hadn't cried in the interviews, though. That's why everyone had loved her, why even Anabella herself had loved her.

But now she'd changed everything. Things had run perfectly smoothly before she had tried to pull the carpet from underneath the Capitol's feet and disrupt the peace. Why couldn't she have just hacked away at rocks like the rest did in District 12? Why did she have to try to be clever?

Anabella continued to weep into her dress, the red dye slowly seeping out like blood on her hands. It occurred to her that the dress would now be ruined, but _no matter, we'll buy a new one. _

She jumped as a hand lightly touched her shoulder, jerking away and whipping around. She narrowed her eyes. "_What do you want?_" came out as a hiss. She was pleased at how venomous her voice sounded. Almost like Uncle Coriolanus'.

The woman smiled in a way that was almost warm, "you'll need to go get changed. For dinner."

"Not hungry."

The woman readjusted the chunky gun that rested heavily on her breast, attached to a thick strap that disappeared behind her back.

Anabella stood up briskly and took a deep breath in. "Maybe I could eat." She stalked out of the room, only slowing to pick up a plate of cakes identical to the ones in her house and throwing it to the floor before leaving the room.

She winced as the door closed behind her.

It was an odd sense of déjà-vu; here she sat at a table about to be served dinner. Only the girl who had been placed to prevent her escape in the train carriage sat with her, however, and she did not eat.

"Where are the avoxes?" Anabella voiced her concerns.

"No avoxes in the New Capitol."

She frowned. No avoxes? Why ever not?

Her attention was shifted as she heard someone enter the room. She would not give them the privilege of her curiosity; she would merely notice them.

She observed their hand as they placed down her platter. Long, manicured nails and blue tinted skin with expensive jewels embedded into it. The hand shook as it reached to clasp the lid and remove it.

Underneath laid her meal: bloody, raw oxen.


	3. Adonys Canissum

Adonys Canissum spat on the polished footwear of the looming figure standing before him. _Peasants. Mere peasants. _That was all he we was; what they all were. Silly, idiotic children from the pittance of District 12 that believed that they could order the Capitol on a whim.

They were wrong.

Adonys steeled himself. They were savages, the lot of them, and he had to be ready for a blow – but he could take it. A strong boy – man, rather – of 18 years, with the most esteemed of all Panem as his father's brother, leaving the Canissum unit exceedingly rich indeed.

He could not be touched, Adonys had been assured of it, yet the hard set of the man's face in front of him told him otherwise; the urge to cower threatening to envelop him.

But if it were a strike that was awaited, one would wait infinitely, because the male standing over the Capitol boy said merely, "Delly, please clean my boots." And with that, he turned away.

Adonys exhaled, for he had been sure there would be some kind of reaction. But there was none. The man's face had remained placid and his expression unchanging.

He should have known. The man he had disobeyed was insane; a madman.

The girl his leader even madder.

Adonys knew her. Who didn't? She was a girl with the heat surrounding her, the girl with the sullen look on her face, the girl who disapproved of Avoxes, the girl who was out in the woods when a former redheaded Avox had been captured. Confidential information, his uncle had called it. _Don't tell anyone_.

_An amicable man, his father's brother. Rather effeminate. Took fancy in items that glittered and coloured hair. Privately, Adonys had admired his uncle for it, for the charisma he showed on stage; but after listening to his father rant and rave about his distaste for the style, Adonys had judged it wise to keep this opinion to himself. _

It was these thoughts that Adonys used in a feeble attempt to distract himself from what was happening in his reality. Whilst the rest of the train they travelled on was rickety, wooden, rotten and falling apart, it appeared there was at least one point they had made an investment on: control.

Once again he made an attempt to free his ankles and wrists.

In a flash a face was an inch away from his. "_Did I say you could move?"_

Adonys narrowed his eyes at the face directly in front of him. He was met with a blow and a subsequent click of the nose, then dribble of blood into his mouth.

"Caesar Flickerman is your uncle."

Adonys sniffed.

"Are you proud?"

Silence.

"Not talking? I anticipated it. Which is why I brought along some entertainment."

Adonys' mind ripped a memory from its depths.

_Snow. _Touching him here, there. Places he didn't want to be touched.

The voice from the present bellowed out a laugh. It sounded a laugh for an old man. "Don't flatter yourself." He paused. "No… here's a taste of the past."

"You're Gale Hawthorne."

"What?" His mask was lifted to reveal bewilderment, but swiftly replaced once more.

"And what about Katniss Everdeen?" Adonys sneered. "She deserted you."

Hawthorne's clenched fist connected with the boy's mouth. "She did _not_!"

"Where is she now? You're her _cousin _after all."

Grinding of teeth.

"_Family _don't desert each other, right? If I can call you two that." He smiled crookedly, drowning in his own blood.

There was silence for a few seconds, the person entering the room so quiet that Adonys did not notice her until Hawthorne dismissed her.

"Thank you, Delly."

The girl from earlier nodded and promptly left.

"I remember this old thing." Hawthorne ran his finger up the leather that was stained with darker remnants of its former days. "Surprised they kept it." He paused. "You recognise it?"

_Thread. _

"Thought so."

Despicable man.

"You know what it's used for?"

Transferred to District 12.

"Because I do."

Hawthorne's face lowered to his, and for a split second Adonys wondered whether he might truly try something.

But instead the lips moved to the boy's ear and whispered, so softly.

"_Punishment._"


End file.
